Chapter 4 Raid Doors and Quiet Promises #2
Roman’s mind caught up a fraction too late. The private seal wasn’t just ink; it was a chain identifier. If they could read it, they could validate what they needed. If they could validate it, they could steal it and make it useless without ever opening it.
The device chirped once, a soft electronic sound that didn’t belong in a garage full of gunshots.
The leader spoke again, calm as if ordering coffee. “Give it to me, Ava.”
Ava’s lips parted. “You don’t get to say my name.”
Roman felt the shift in her - her certainty cracking, not because she was weak, but because she realized how deep the sabotage reached. The courier’s redaction wasn’t the only compromise.
This was access.
Roman shoved her sideways, forcing her behind a maintenance column. He pressed his palm against her shoulder hard enough to anchor her. “Look at me. You keep breathing. You keep the folder - ”
Ava’s eyes met his, and her expression changed. Vulnerability slipped through the armor she wore like she’d been born in it. “Roman,” she said, and the way she said it wasn’t defiance anymore. It was truth. “I promised I would keep investigating.”
He stared, understanding arriving with teeth. “You promised.”
“I promised myself.” Her voice shook once, then steadied on sheer will. “To file the motion. To put the truth on record. If I don’t - if I walk away - then the leak wins twice. It steals me and it steals the case.”
Roman’s throat tightened. He wanted to stop her from thinking like that. From making her need for justice into a target.
But her need was also why she was alive.
Outside the column, the interceptors closed the distance. A rifle butt struck concrete, loud as a threat. The sound echoed off the garage walls.
Roman shifted his stance to draw fire, keeping his body between Ava and the line of barrels. His gun felt too small against the number of enemies, too slow against the way their plan had already moved.
“Your promise is going to get you killed,” he said.
Ava’s gaze flicked to the folder, then back to him. “Then you’ll have to keep me alive long enough to break the pattern.”
Before Roman could argue, the leader’s men rushed - no longer cautious, because the device had likely confirmed what they needed. One of them slammed into Roman’s shoulder, driving him back. Another grabbed for Ava again.
Roman swung his arm out, gun muzzle flashing as he struck a jaw. The man went down. Roman turned, aiming to protect Ava - And saw the problem he hadn’t accounted for.
Ava’s folder wasn’t in her hands anymore.
It was still sealed. Still stamped. Still hers in appearance.
But it had been yanked out of her grip with a speed that made Roman’s blood turn to ice. The moment had been a blur - hands, motion, Ava’s gasp. The folder was already in someone else’s arms, already disappearing toward the ramp.
Ava tried to lunge after it, but Roman’s grip on her wrist snapped tight, stopping her like a shackle. “No.”
Her eyes were wild. “They stole it!”
Roman’s jaw clenched until it hurt. He looked toward the ramp where the folder carrier ran with it tucked against his chest, disappearing into the garage’s deeper lanes. “Yes,” he said, voice flat with fury that had nowhere to go. “And the traitor accessed you.”
Ava’s face twisted. “You said no one would touch it.”
Roman’s gaze pinned her. “I believed it.”
The confession made something in Ava’s eyes soften and then harden again. She wasn’t forgiving him. She was calculating the cost.
“Roman,” she said, breath quick. “That means the original file is compromised. The evidence trail that was supposed to protect me - ”
He cut her off because the next words would shred them both. “ - is gone.”
Ava’s throat worked. “Then my motion - ”
Roman shoved her back behind the column, forcing distance between her and the barrels. “Your motion is not happening with what they have.”
Her eyes flashed. “So what? We lose the whole case?”
Roman didn’t answer immediately. He listened - tracked the echo of boots, the direction of their movement. The garage’s layout shifted with every second, turning into a maze designed to separate them.
He made a decision without asking permission from his own fear.
“Hold still,” he ordered.
Ava’s brows drew together. “What are you doing?”
Roman didn’t let her finish. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the spare keycard - one he’d prepared for the getaway vehicle he’d intended to use after they cleared the garage.
But the raid had derailed the plan. The interceptors had sealed the exits.
The only way out now was lateral - through a service bay that led to a maintenance lane.
He grabbed Ava’s hand and pressed the keycard into her palm. “You’re getting out with me. Now.”
Ava stared down at the card, then up at him. “You’re switching vehicles.”
Roman’s mouth tightened. “I’m switching survival.”
Ava’s grip tightened around the keycard as if she could keep him from changing his mind with force. “And the folder?”
Roman’s eyes burned. “They can keep it. For now.”
It wasn’t a comforting promise. It was a strategy built from the knowledge that they’d already been betrayed - and that Ava’s original evidence had become a weapon pointed back at her.
Ava’s voice dropped, dangerous in its calm. “If they have my file, they’ll know exactly where I’ll go next.”
Roman leaned close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath. “Then you won’t go where they expect.”
“And where will I go?” she asked, and there was a crack in her voice, a fracture she tried to hide with anger. “You’re the one with the plan.”
Roman watched her face, watched her try to be brave in a room that had turned hostile. He wanted to tell her the truth - that the plan had already failed, that his discipline couldn’t outshoot a traitor who knew their timing.
Instead, he gave her the only thing he could without breaking her.
“Where I can protect you,” he said.
A burst of gunfire erupted from somewhere to their left. The sound was close enough to rattle teeth. The interceptors shouted - one of them cursing about a barrier they couldn’t breach.
Roman didn’t wait for the next command. He pulled Ava around the column and shoved her toward the maintenance lane entrance. The keycard in her hand flashed under the overhead lights as if it was eager to be used.
Behind them, the stolen folder was being carried deeper into the garage.
And Roman could see, in the way the interceptors angled their bodies, that they weren’t just taking evidence.
They were guiding Roman to where Ava would be most vulnerable.
As they sprinted, Ava’s head snapped toward the ramp. “Roman,” she said, and the word dragged something raw to the surface. “That device - if they can validate my seal…”
Roman didn’t slow. “Finish your thought.”
Ava’s eyes were glassy with fury. “They can confirm it’s mine. Which means - ”
Roman’s breath caught when he realized what she was saying before she finished.
The traitor didn’t just have access to her location.
They had access to her proof.
And he’d just watched the one thing that could keep Ava safe turn into bait - again - while his new escape route burned down around them.
The maintenance lane door ahead was half-open, its metal frame splintered from a recent impact.
Roman shoved Ava through it first.
Then the lock clicked from the outside - final, deliberate - while the garage behind them erupted into another wave of boots and gunfire.
Ava spun, yanking at the door handle, panic flaring despite her control. “Roman - ”
Roman raised his gun and stared at the thick seam where the door met the frame.
It wasn’t just being held shut.
It was being sealed.